


Or a Coat of Red

by canyouseemyspark, dayinthelife



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canyouseemyspark/pseuds/canyouseemyspark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayinthelife/pseuds/dayinthelife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Brienne of Tarth were born into the different houses of Westeros. Done in a series of three-sentence fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tully

She stomps out of her father’s solar in a fury (her red fury, the Blackfish likes to call it, Tully red to match the blue eyes that he is so fond of, eyes that she so often narrows at him in determination as he trains her in the practice yard, to her delight and Father’s exasperation) and marches directly to her sister’s room, the tears in her eyes betraying her despite the determined scowl on her face.

“I don’t want to marry Jaime Lannister,” she murmurs and Catelyn looks up from her needlework and sighs sadly, as though she has been expecting this; their father had probably discussed it with her weeks before, Brienne thinks to herself somewhat bitterly, wondering how her sister could possibly believe she’d agree to marry a Lannister, especially after all their uncle had said about Lord Tywin and his resignation as Hand of the King.

“We must all do our duty, sweetling,” Cat says softly, wrapping her arms around Brienne and kissing her hair as her younger sister clutches the front of her gown and begins to weep.


	2. Martell

“These are your sisters,” the black-haired man says, ( _father,_ she remembers, _you must call him father;_ she sees her mother’s face, her body still and pale, and thinks on how two days later he came with food and water, smiled as she devoured it, her hunger stronger than shame, and afterwards pulled her up on his horse) and she considers them each warily, these three women who are now her blood, these three strangers.

She feels her eyes sting and the eldest of them steps forward, a scowl on her face and a weapon in her hands.

“Take the spear, wipe your tears,” Obara says, and Brienne does.


	3. Lannister

The rush of excitement is almost too much as their wooden swords make contact again and again – parry, block, downcut, block – and she doesn’t think anything has ever been so perfect, her hair in sweaty disarray, the birds singing in the trees outside the practice yard, her big brother grinning as she imitates the latest trick he has learned from the master at arms.

She notices the smile slip from his face half a second too late, and she brings the practice sword down into his shoulder, harder than she meant to.

“It is uncomely for a maiden to engage in such brutish activities, even one such as you,” her lord father says coldly, coming up behind her and grabbing her arm, pulling her back toward the castle as Cersei peeks out from a window, resentment and satisfaction shining in her eyes.


	4. Baratheon

He does not laugh at her when she trips, stumbling on clumsy feet unable to keep up with his long strides; he does not take her hand and bring her along, only looks at her with pity.

“Go back to the castle, sister, you’re too small,” He frowns, chasing after the curly-haired knight, leaving her to sit alone, her knees scraped and the tears fat on her ruddy cheeks.

It is Stannis who comes later, Stannis who comes always, and though he tells her she can sit by him while he hears petitions if she stays very quiet, all she can think is _I want Renly_.


	5. Targaryen

Her brother fixes her with a disgusted look after the horse lords ride away, the bells tinkling in their thick black braids as they shake with undisguised laughter, and she knows that they laugh at her - her limp hair, the crookedness of her teeth, her huge, intimidating stature. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such an ugly bitch our brother would have married you, and we wouldn’t be here begging savages to take back our own throne,” Viserys spits, pinching the underside of her arm through the thin fabric of her gown.

Something within her snaps, and the next moment her brother is clambering off the ground, his lip bloodied and his eyes wild, hunted like they had always looked when they had first been brought to the place with the red door, and Brienne mutters something about waking the dragon before hurrying to her chambers.


	6. Tyrell

She sits in her grandmother’s solar, hears the sound of steel clashing in the yard, and yearns to be out there, sparring with her brothers – on a good day she can catch Loras off guard but never Garlan, though with practice Willas says she might.

“Your _mind_ is the weapon that needs honing,” the Queen of Thorns says, as though she can read her mind.

She sits in her grandmother’s solar and the smell of roses chokes her.


	7. Greyjoy

The waves are relentless, crashing against the ship again and again as the wind buffets them from the north, clawing at their sails and biting at their faces and shrieking with indignation all the while; yet she stands alone amongst it all, tall and fierce and rigid, gripping the railing and clenching her jaw even as the icy spray washes over her, the anger in her eyes shining despite the gloom of the storm. 

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Asha says, approaching her from behind; and though her tone is somewhat reproachful, her hand is warm when she places it on top of Brienne’s, and she sighs as she threads their fingers together. Brienne doesn’t respond, just continues staring out at the sea, wishing that the claps of thunder could mask the screams of Maron’s newly won salt wife below deck.


	8. Stark

The needle pricks her finger and a patch of red blooms on her embroidery almost immediately, an ugly wound marring the direwolf of her house (an ill omen, she thinks darkly, sucking on her finger to stop the blood from ruining the linen further). 

Septa Mordane shakes her head and tuts disapprovingly, and Brienne tries to pretend that her look of disappointment doesn't sting her heart, tries to tell herself that her large hands and clumsy feet do not make her any less a Stark, however much a failure she might feel under that judgmental gaze. 

Then Arya mutters an obscenity, throwing her needlework to the ground in frustration, and Brienne can't help smiling, insecurities forgotten as she's shooed out of the room to chase after her sister.


	9. Blackfyre

“We’re going home.”

 _We will take what is ours, it is our destiny, our duty, our right,_ Brienne had heard repeated again and again, _our throne, our kingdom_ , _our blood,_ and even in the comfort of their manse in Pentos dared not think of what would become of them when the dragons circled overheard, when it all turned to fire.

“We’re dragons too,” her silver-haired brother grins, as if reading her mind, an army of golden men behind them, with golden skulls gleaming and screaming and smiling at their banner, Blackfyre glowing dark and dangerous in his hands.


End file.
